Cruel Man
by SweetObsession0
Summary: There was absolute perfection in his flaws. The way his eyes flickered with wellplaced self consciousness. The almost imperceptible occasional stutter in his speech. But Hermione knew better. TRHG time travel fic.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

This will be a Tom/Hermione time travel story, just to catch everyone up.

There was absolute perfection in his flaws.

The way his eyes flickered with well-placed self consciousness. The almost imperceptible occasional stutter in his speech. The way he looked at his feet in a show of embarrassment.

All minute details adding up to the finished product. But Hermione knew better.

This was all a far cry from the other memories she had been reviewing, including Harry's from the Chamber of Secrets in second year.

The differences were startling.

The unreadable expression. Never faltering speech. Strong and confident strides. And yet, the thing that stood out the most to Hermione were his eyes. Dark gray irises that reflected everything and nothing.

This man was to be feared.

Hermione supposed that was the point of these memory trips, besides the whole getting-to-know-the-enemy thing. To make sure she understood to never underestimate him. And oh, did she understand.

Near the beginning, it was mostly talk. Who would actually consider time travel to stop a psychotic mass murderer while he was at his close-to-weakest? But then, Hermione's parents were killed. And Dean Thomas' oldest sister. And Professor McGonagall. As more and more people fell to the Death Eaters, the idea went from possibility to probability. And finally, it was in the certainty stage where the only thing left was to decide when.

Hermione shivered in the cold hallway as she stood next to a black and white Tom Riddle, currently expressing his remorse to Dumbledore over the death of the poor girl Myrtle. She had seen this particular memory numerous times. It was one which never failed to intrigue her, and she always found herself standing next to him staring at his eyes, his face, his movements so carefully calculated to give the illusion of faults and innocence, when in reality, both those traits were in short supply.

She wondered briefly why Dumbledore was the only person who was able to see past Riddle's perfectly crafted façade, when none of the other teachers were able to. She supposed it might be because Dumbledore was one of the few professors who took an interest in his students outside of the classroom as well as inside. He would notice the differences in demeanor.

Other memories showed small glimpses of Riddle while he walked from class to class or talked with his friends. While he ate and when he thought no one was watching. Those were the glimpses that showed how Riddle was, away from the trusting eyes of the professors. Those were the glimpses that provided Hermione with the biggest comparisons between his Head Boy self and the other self whose ambition was to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world.

Hermione took one last long glance at Tom Riddle's handsome face and felt a twist of hate in her stomach. She stepped back and waved her wand in the way that would end the memory. She'd seen enough for the day.

Her feet hit the ground in Dumbledore's office and looking up, Hermione was immediately greeted with the blue twinkling eyes of the headmaster. "Have a nice trip today, Miss Granger?" the old man asked kindly.

"Yes, thank you Professor," she replied and took a seat in the comfy, overstuffed chair he gestured her to. Hermione reclined in the warm leather and closed her eyes for a moment. These memory trips took a little bit of a toll on her. Professor Dumbledore had opened up his office to Hermione months ago, offering his pensieve whenever she wanted or needed it. She was given the password to the headmaster's office and the permission to visit the memories whether he was there to supervise her or not. Needless to say, Hermione had taken great advantage of the offer.

Upon opening her eyes, Hermione saw the familiar sight of three lemon drops placed side by side in front of her on the desk and smiled. The headmaster and she had gotten into a nice routine since the beginning of her visits. She snagged the first lemon drop and popped it into her mouth, sucking thoughtfully.

"Anything new today, Miss Granger?" The headmaster inquired.

"No, not really, Professor. I visited the night of Moaning Myrtle's death again," she said sheepishly. It was no secret between them that Hermione had been frequenting that memory more than ever in the past few days.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly and retrieved a lemon drop from the bowl sitting in front of him before following Hermione's example and savoring the sour sweetness. "Have you been thinking about when you'll go?" he asked her.

Hermione sighed. She had been dreading this question since this whole idea was put into motion. Just the thought of actually doing what they had been talking about made her stomach turn. A large part of her just hoped Dumbledore would up and decide that this didn't need to be done after all. However, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. But no matter how scared she was about being transferred, without Harry and Ron, to 1954 to somehow stop Tom Riddle from ever completing his transformation into Lord Voldemort, she knew that she would rather take the opportunity than wait for even more people connected to her to die.

She took another deep breath to steady herself and give herself courage before answering, "Saturday, five days from now. I was thinking since we don't know how long I would be gone, I could use the Friday Hogsmeade trip to spend some more time with Harry and Ron."

Dumbledore nodded. "A wise choice," he remarked, leaning back in his chair, "And a brave one, if I may say so myself." His eyes lost a little bit of the sparkle as he grew more serious. "I know this will not be easy for you. Not only are you given the difficult task of facing a murderer who killed your parents in an era you are not familiar or comfortable with, but you must do it without your friends or my help.

"I will tell you this; you must have confidence in yourself and your abilities if you are going to survive against Tom Riddle. You must know, like I know, that you are the most powerful witch of your generation and can handle any situation. It is because I believe these things about you that it is not Harry or Ron traveling to the past. If Harry were to go, he would not hesitate to kill Riddle, and that is not the point of this _mission_, for lack of a better word. You both are emotional concerning Voldemort because of your parents but I believe you are much more level-headed and will not make rash decisions. Not to mention, you're the only one I know who I feel is advanced enough in time travel to do what you are doing."

Hermione felt a blush rise in her cheeks. It was always nice when she was commended or rewarded for her hard work. Especially when other professors (namely, Professor Snape) punished her for it.

With a smile and a muttered "Thank you, Professor," Hermione bid the headmaster goodnight and excused herself.

In a week she would meet the most feared wizard in the world.

Yes, I am aware that it is INCREDIBLY short, but this is kind of a test chapter, and if it is received well, I'll continue with the story, so be sure to review.


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